


To Wish Impossible Things

by flopte



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Canon Compliant, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Kid Fic, M/M, Magical Accidents, Unnecessary Yet Inevitable Star Wars References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 04:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4420973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flopte/pseuds/flopte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chanyeol wishes and gets what he wants, albeit not in the way he expects.</p><p>or</p><p>That baby AU no one asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Wish Impossible Things

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [a series](https://twitter.com/301BR/status/621705228698583040) [of fanarts](https://twitter.com/301BR/status/621705855155617793). ~~I totally have no idea whose it is, I have it saved on my phone so I can't link the source properly without breaking the standard no repost rule.~~ Unbeta-ed. All mistakes are mine. Title stolen from The Cure's To Wish Impossible Things.

Chanyeol looks over the bed opposite to his, white covers neatly spread on the mattress, unoccupied. _Kyungsoo's._ He hasn't seen the guy for days. Well, he does, at like fuck o'clock when Kyungsoo is back from filming post any owl’s bedtime, or when Kyungsoo is getting ready for his schedule before the dawn breaks, because Chanyeol is a light sleeper whose sleep will be interrupted when his ears catch the shuffle of Kyungsoo's feet against the parquet. Some days when he gets tired from his own schedule, the flutter of Kyungsoo's getting ready to sleep or go out doesn’t wake him up at all, but when it does, the conversation - more greetings than anything else really - doesn't go over five sentences each.

 _"Sorry I woke you up."_  
_"I could get back early today I think.”_ (If by early Kyungsoo meant 3:42AM then yes, he got back early that night.)  
_“Don’t leave any food for me, I’ll eat at the set. Sorry the tofu stew you cooked me went bad because I forgot to eat it.”_  
_“No, my foot is fine. I can walk alright.”_ (Chanyeol didn’t miss the cringe on Kyungsoo’s face when he stepped on the wrong foot climbing down his bed.)

Chanyeol doesn’t feel sleepy anymore. He picks up his phone on the nightstand and walks out of the room. Jongdae is at the balcony, left thumb deftly punching on the keyboard of his phone. He turns around when he hears Chanyeol step over to the balcony.

“Can’t sleep?” Jongdae asks, perfunctory, eyes not leaving the screen of his phone.

“Yeah,” Chanyeol answers anyway. He sits down on the concrete and leans against the glass pane of the sliding door. Marvels at the vast reaches of the night skies appreciatively, a good distraction as any.

“Is Kyungsoo still out?”  
“Yeah.”

Jongdae finally tears his eyes away from the phone. “It’s almost 2 in the morning,” he states like Chanyeol isn’t familiar with the concept of time.

“Still early for him these days.”

Jongdae sighs as he slides down against the sliding door to sit beside Chanyeol. “I know people who would kill for that kind of schedule, but to actually live it must be, well, kinda hell.”

“Maybe. I doubt that’s the case for Kyungsoo, though. He loves what we have to do, he loves what he gets to do.” Chanyeol sees from the periphery of his vision that Jongdae is now looking at him. He keeps his stare fixed ahead anyway. “I know he’s getting by, but I hope he gets enough rest before he conks out.”

The heavens are looking exceptionally dark tonight, not a sign of celestial bodies to be seen let alone a shooting star, but Chanyeol wishes anyway.

 

Chanyeol is a light sleeper, but he went to bed at 3AM last night so it’s harder than usual to pry his eyes open when being woken up, especially thinking that he’s still dreaming, that there is no way he will have tiny little fingers tugging at his, have babbles which unmistakably belong to a baby echoing in his ears right now.

He doesn’t have to wake up, he tells himself; this is all a dream that will fade away in less than five minutes.

Until it gets too real. Little fingers are pulling at the strands of his hair now. Babbles are becoming whinier when unheeded.

With great difficulty Chanyeol pries his eyes open, rubs away sleep in his eyes. There’s an actual baby standing by his bed, which probably makes it a toddler, but Chanyeol knows about babies like he knows his high school biology – superficial and incomprehensive - so he’s not sure.

_Who the fuck would bring a baby to the dorm anyway?_

He loves them tiny beings, he does, even if they wake him up at – he glances at the time displayed on his phone – 6:35 in the morning. He finds himself smiling blearily at the toddler (or baby? Goddamn, he has to ask Jongin to categorize these tiny humans, he has no idea at what age they become what), and the toddler makes a gurgly sound in the throat which sounds suspiciously like “morning.” He ruffles in adoration thick locks on the small head, and the toddler beams at him, tiny lips forming a heart-shaped–

_Wait a second._

Now that he’s more awake than he was one and a half minute ago, his brain is finally allowing him to compute the striking features of caterpillar brows and big round eyes, how the toddler reminds him of, well, the only other person with heart-shaped lips he knows.

Three scenarios pop into his head:  
1) this is Kyungsoo’s little brother he's been hiding from everyone  
2) this is Kyungsoo’s cousin, about whom no one has ever heard, and most possibly doesn’t exist  
3) Kyungsoo’s hyung has a secret child, which makes this little human Kyungsoo’s nephew (or niece?)

Worst case scenario: this is Kyungsoo’s hidden child, which sounds absurd and laughable even in his own head.

The thing is, the toddler, who is now trying to climb into Chanyeol’s bed with his short chubby limbs, doesn’t resemble Kyungsoo per se. Instead, he looks exactly like miniature Kyungsoo, identical, blessed with tiny Kyungsoo’s features, whose tiny person is engulfed in Kyungsoo’s favorite pajama, that worn-out Facebook t-shirt they got for free in an event three years ago–

“No way. . .” Chanyeol whispers to himself in disbelief. The t-shirt in which Kyungsoo went to bed last night. He holds the toddler by the armpits and uplifts him to his lap. The length of the t-shirt drapes past the toes. The toddler babbles, teeny lips full with gurgling spit, short little legs kicking against Chanyeol’s thighs.

It’s ridiculous to even begin to think of the possibility of Kyungsoo _being_ the toddler – there’s no logic, no making sense of it – but Chanyeol is scared of what he’s going to see anyway. Doubtfully he reaches out for the toddler’s right ear – not without having to coax it out of biting his fingers first – and gingerly, he pushes tufts of baby hair behind the ear.

Chanyeol feels his insides churn in panic. There it is. The mole on the tragus. _Kyungsoo’s mole._

“No fucking way.”

 

 

“He needs diapers,” Jongin announces when everyone can only stare at the magic that is toddler Kyungsoo. “He can’t be more than two years old. Rahee is already on solid food, so Kyungsoo hyung can eat like, semi solid at least, so I think Chanyeol hyung got that covered. Simple congee with veges and lean meat or something like that. We still need to buy him formula milk, bottles, diapers, clothes, some baby cookies, for now at least,” he adds, insightful.

“What we need is for him to turn back to normal,” Baekhyun says quietly but loud enough for everyone in the living room to hear.

“And I need you to shut up, Baekhyun,” Jongdae warns, “unless you have something helpful to suggest that doesn’t involve going to the coven for a reverse spell.”

“There’s a coven in this age and era? In this jungle of bricks?” Sehun questions way too excitedly for someone with a turned-into-a-toddler group member.

“Guys.” Junmyeon tries to massage away his headache. The room gets silent again.

Except for Kyungsoo, who is still trying to toddle his way to the main door. Chanyeol has been chasing after him for five times in a row now that he has to resort to hugging the toddler close in his lap to keep him in place.

Junmyeon’s phone rings, the ringtone assigned to their main manager hyung sounding too loud in the quiet. He goes to take the call in the kitchen.

“I’ve told him to buy the things Jongin said,” Junmyeon informs to no one in particular when he walks back into the living room. “He said he’s bought Kyungsoo a few days. Something about Kyungsoo getting food poisoning. The director will proceed with other scenes first. Said he had an earful from the director, though. Kyungsoo was supposed to be there, like, now.”

Everyone stares at Kyungsoo as it clicks in their head.

“So he’s been trying to go to the set for the last fifteen minutes?”  
“Does he even realize he’s a baby now?”  
“So, like, is he physically a baby but mentally a 22-year-old or what?”  
“In what universe is this a thing?”

Question after question is bombarded to no one in particular; Chanyeol doesn’t know the answer to any of it. Who the fuck knows, probably except for Kyungsoo himself but he’s a toddler who hasn’t developed past his babbling phase (save for dada and bird), so the point stands, who the fuck knows?

“He doesn’t seem to be as self-aware as we think, I think,” Chanyeol suggests as he lets Kyungsoo’s tiny fingers wrap around his index. His thumb caresses against soft stubby digits in reflex, which seems to quieten the toddler a little.

_So, so tiny._

“He seems restless, like he intrinsically knows he’s gotta be somewhere but I don’t think he has the capacity to think and act like a fully functional adult? I mean he wants to do adult things and drink adult drinks – Minseok hyung, please, don’t try to feed him coffee no matter how much he whines at you – but I don’t think he registers that his person is that of a two-year-old, or something.”

“Wow,” Baekhyun responds intelligently. “I’m still trying to make sense of this whole thing, how do you even come up with that?”

Chanyeol laughs despite himself. Kyungsoo turns around to look up at him and laughs too as if he doesn’t want to miss the in-joke. Everyone is cooing at him and Chanyeol has to admit, Kyungsoo is a damn cute toddler alright. Baekhyun gets his phone out, tries to get Kyungsoo who is still in Chanyeol’s lap to pose for his camera, but Kyungsoo just stares at him, as serious as a toddler is capable of. Then Kyungsoo's tiny fingers lift up Chanyeol’s hand to cover him from the lens. Chanyeol hoists Kyungsoo up and turns him around so that he sits facing Chanyeol’s chest instead. Kyungsoo nuzzles into Chanyeol, short limbs clinging to Chanyeol’s torso for protection. Kyungsoo stops whining.

“Chanyeol hyung, I think toddler Kyungsoo thinks you’re his dad or something,” Sehun says, and Chanyeol hear Baekhyun and Jongdae break into a laughter in the background. Chanyeol doesn’t agree, but he holds Kyungsoo tighter anyway.

 

 

Kyungsoo refuses to take a nap.

It’s late afternoon, post lunch. Kyungsoo whines intermittently between bouts of dozing off, fighting off sleep. He keeps toddling to the kitchen and points to the coffee machine and Chanyeol has to coax him out of the kitchen every time. Right now his tiny fingers are trying to flip through the script Kyungsoo always has by his bed, which he has acquired by dragging Chanyeol by the pinky to their room and pointing at it until Chanyeol picked it up. There are blotches of spits and tears on the papers now, and a few pages have been accidentally torn by none other than little Kyungsoo himself.

“It’s like you said,” Junmyeon observes, “he wants to do adult things that adult Kyungsoo does but it’s not physically or biologically possible for this Kyungsoo.”

Chanyeol nods solemnly as he follows Junmyeon’s gaze, keeping an eye on tiny limbs in the diaper paddling the way to the kitchen, again. Soon enough Kyungsoo will start calling for Chanyeol in ways he knows how (which involves crying and whining and wailing) and point to the coffee machine, again.

Sehun walks out of the kitchen with Kyungsoo perched on his hips instead, Kyungsoo’s tiny legs trashing about in protest. “Is this why he insists on having coffee, because he doesn’t want to take a nap?”

“How the fuck does that even work? He’s a goddamned toddler. He’s not supposed to know anything but milk.”

“Don't act so surprised when _this–"_ Sehun's hand flails in the general direction of Kyungsoo, "–happened. Also, Baekhyun hyung, please refrain yourself from cursing around children.”

“We all know that tiny little thing grew up to curse like a sailor, so.”

Junmyeon is massaging his temple again; Sehun tactfully, visibly, refrains himself and bites back a retort.

Kyungsoo starts to cry again, face crumpling up, round cheeks tear-stained. There are crumbs of Farley’s Rusks on the corner of his lips. Chanyeol thumbs it away, untangles the toddler from Sehun’s hips to perch him on his own. “He’s just grumpy because he’s sleepy,” Chanyeol says as he brings Kyungsoo to their room. He hopes the others didn’t take note of the fondness in his voice. “I’ll get him to sleep.”

Chanyeol’s idea of getting Kyungsoo to sleep is easy: wrap up the toddler with the duvet like a swaddled infant and watch Kyungsoo struggle to move around for a few seconds before he gives up to the confinement. He blinks at Chanyeol sluggishly. It’s terrifyingly adorable, Chanyeol can’t help but smiles at the sight. He lets his fingers stroke soft fine hair on the tiny head, another hand patting Kyungsoo’s chest in what he hopes to be a lulling gesture.

Kyungsoo is lulled alright, even if he’s still trying to blink away sleep. Moments later the toddler is fast asleep and Chanyeol feels his own eyes closing of their own accord.

 

 

When Chanyeol wakes up, it’s already dark in the room, save the dim dusk light filtering through the cracks in the blinds. Before he fell asleep he did hope to wake up to a 22-year-old Kyungsoo instead of a toddler bundled up sleeping, but looking at the endearing sight in front of him he can’t say he’s that disappointed.

It’s been three hours of napping for them. Is it even allowed for toddlers? Do toddlers have a proper napping schedule to follow? Chanyeol is so out of his depth, it’s not even funny.

There’s a knock on the door and Kyungsoo stirs in his sleep, tiny facial features scrunching up in fleeting annoyance. Jongin pushes the door open very gently and tiptoes towards Kyungsoo’s bed. “Is he still asleep?” he mouths. Chanyeol nods and gestures for him to get out before they wake Kyungsoo up.

All eight of them are sitting in the living room. It hasn’t been a day since Kyungsoo woke up as a toddler but Junmyeon is looking like he’s about to black out anytime soon. They’re going to Beijing in three days for the tour and if Kyungsoo is still a child by then . . .

Chanyeol stops himself from thinking that far.

For the time being, though, everything is kept between them and the manager hyung, who manages to look like he’s still got his sanity intact despite the incredulity of it all.

“If he doesn’t get back to normal, what are we gonna do?” Sehun is biting his nails.

“He will,” Yixing says reassuringly like he has a clue. “Everything happens for a reason. There must be one for this.”

Everyone nods solemnly in agreement as though they have just heard the wise word of Yoda himself.

“How long has he been out? 6 hours?” Junmyeon asks, voice laden with concern. “Jongin, is it normal for toddlers to nap for that long?”

Jongin considers for a while, shakes his head. “I don’t think so? Rahee would wake up after an hour or two for like food or something.”

“Are we starving him?” Baekhyun gasps a little too dramatically, his palms against his chest, scandalized.

Jongdae replies, “If he’s hungry he will probably wake up. It’s science. Or biology. I don’t know.”

“At least he’s getting proper sleep for the first time in weeks, I guess,” Minseok ponders, and Jongdae’s head does a 90-degree rotation in Chanyeol’s direction after digesting the comment. His brows are wriggling in a way that will have made Chanyeol laugh out loud if it isn't for the fact that Kyungsoo is sleeping. He’s trying to convey something his brows can’t deliver, and Chanyeol is amused.

“What?” Chanyeol mouths as if six other pairs of eyes aren’t following their muted, faux-telepathic exchange. Jongdae tilts his head repeatedly, gesturing towards the balcony.

And then it dawns on Chanyeol.

Before he gets to react, the door of their room which was left ajar squeaks slowly open, revealing toddler Kyungsoo with a sob and pouted lips.

Everyone turns their head and coos, still fascinated despite the circumstances. Baekhyun scrambles to pick him up, only to be rejected. Kyungsoo pushes against Baekhyun’s chest with all the might his precisely sixteen-month-old person can muster. Baekhyun laughs and turns to look at Chanyeol. “Chanyeol, dude, I think Sehun is right. He thinks you’re the dad.”

Chanyeol still doesn’t think it’s true, but now is not the time to argue, not when Kyungsoo is still standing by the doorsill in expectation, his lips quivering, tiny fingers fiddling with the diaper tape as he stares at Chanyeol. Chanyeol goes to pick him up with ease, and Kyungsoo nuzzles against Chanyeol’s neck as Chanyeol settles back down on the couch.

“He’s probably mad he woke up alone. Babies do that, right?” Chanyeol asks, looking at Jongin expectantly. By this time, everyone has embraced their ad hoc role: Jongin, the Jedi Master of Babies Force, Chanyeol, the baby whisperer, and Baekhyun, the annoying older sibling no babies ask for.

Jongin nods in the affirmative and informs, “If his biology is anything that of a toddler, we probably need to change his nappy. I’ll heat up his leftover lunch. I would ask you to cook for him but judging by the way he’s clinging to you, you’re not gonna be able to.”

Jongin is rarely an active participant in anything that doesn’t involve dancing or performing, so the way he’s been taking charge surprises just about everyone. It’s probably apparent in their faces too, because Jongin grins and says, “What? It’s a baby, and it’s Kyungsoo hyung, my favorite kinds of human wrapped in one.”

Then he winks at Kyungsoo before leaving for the kitchen. The toddler giggles like he gets it.

 

 

“Like Minseok hyung said, at least he’s getting some rest.”

“I never wished for it to be this way,” Chanyeol mumbles dejectedly. He cards his fingers through Kyungsoo’s hair as they watch him sleep. It’s past midnight, Kyungsoo has drifted off to sleep hours ago as soon as he has finished his dinner.

Jongdae drapes his arm over the width of Chanyeol’s shoulder and pats, a comforting gesture. “Perhaps this is the only way possible for him to get a decent rest without like being hospitalized or something. Look at him, he’s been sleeping the whole day. He only wakes up for food. This couldn’t have happened any other way. Except, yeah, hospitalized.”

Chanyeol doesn’t entertain the churn of his stomach at the thought of Kyungsoo being hospitalized. “There wasn’t a shooting star that night,” he protests, sounding petulanr even to himself.

Jongdae’s amusement comes in a form of a chuckle. “Even if there was any I wouldn’t have believed it would change anything. But the universe has its ways of doing things, I guess.”

“Had I known some heavenly bodies would grant my wish, I would have wished for something more substantial and self-serving, like tons of money and gigs and a girlfriend.”

This time Jongdae smiles at Chanyeol, uncomfortably knowingly. “No, you wouldn’t.”

 

 

Chanyeol wakes up to the sound of Kyungsoo wailing sounded from outside. It’s deafening and alarming and six in the morning, Chanyeol almost loses his balance as he scurries out of the room. Kyungsoo is screaming at the top of his lungs with his tear-streaked face and snot and soaking wet eyelashes. Chanyeol is bending to pick him up when he notices the scatter of ceramic shards that suspiciously look like that of a mug and spilled dark liquid that smells like coffee, all over the floor where Kyungsoo is standing.

Then Chanyeol does something he’s never thought capable of doing.

“WHO THE FUCK LEFT A FUCKING MUG, OF COFFEE NO LESS, ON THE FUCKING COFFEE TABLE WHERE KYUNGSOO COULD REACH?” Chanyeol’s voice thunders across the living room, shocking even little Kyungsoo himself. He instantly stops wailing to stare at Chanyeol in fear. The volume and note with which he howls afterwards get impossibly higher.

Chanyeol gives Kyungsoo a cursory once-over to inspect for any injury. There’s a thin line of broken skin on the side of Kyungsoo’s right shin, probably grazed by the shard scattered by the fall, and it’s evidently only skin-deep, but Chanyeol finds himself fuming at the sight, his nostrils flaring, teeth seething in pure anger.

Everyone is already gathered at the living room by the time Chanyeol picks Kyungsoo up in a swoop and holds him tight in consolation, the stares they are giving render him unable to meet anyone’s eyes. He rubs against Kyungsoo’s back with a certain urgency to soothe him down, the whimpering making his heart ache. Kyungsoo nestles into Chanyeol’s neck as his cry dwindles down into a sob, tiny fingers clutching at Chanyeol’s black undershirt. “I’m sorry,” murmurs Chanyeol into Kyungsoo’s ears, half pacifying, fully apologetic. “I’m sorry I yelled.”

“I . . .” Jongdae’s voice is timid when he owns up. “I forgot to clean up, I’m sorry.”

Chanyeol looks his disappointment and heat to Jongdae, and then walks away to his room with Kyungsoo in his arms, brushing off the apology.

 

 

Chanyeol has managed to come up with rice porridge with carrot, broccoli and bits of tuna despite having to work around little Kyungsoo clinging to his legs. When he’s done, he hoists Kyungsoo up and sits him on his thighs, sitting at the dining table for their lunch. Kyungsoo tries to reach for the plastic spoon their manager has bought. Chanyeol distracts him with a spoonful of the porridge, making buzzing sounds of an airplane as the food goes into Kyungsoo's little mouth, treating him like he’s an actual toddler. Maybe he is, at this point Chanyeol has given up trying to act like he knows.

“Does it taste good?” Chanyeol asks with a voice one only uses on babies. When Kyungsoo giggles and babbles as a reply, Chanyeol takes it as a yes that a) the food tastes good, and b) Kyungsoo’s a toddler in every sense of the word.

“Do you want to come back?” Chanyeol’s voice takes a sad tone, quiet, delivered in a way meant to be privy to no one but himself. Kyungsoo is probably listening, but he’s equipped with a toddler’s capacity to engage in an actual conversation. Chanyeol wipes away some porridge on Kyungsoo’s cheek with a thumb. “I love you, you tiny little human, but I love 22 years old you, too. I kinda need that version of you, to be honest. I mean, who else I’m gonna mess with, right? I can’t annoy you when you’re like this.”

Kyungsoo flashes his milk teeth in delight before he tries to climb onto the dining table to reach for the bowl.

“Not to say I don’t love you right now. I do.” Chanyeol lifts Kyungsoo back to his lap as the toddler struggles to get free. “You’re the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen on earth. You can stay as long as you need to be, preferably by our Beijing takeoff, but yeah. Don’t leave because you feel unloved because you are. Loved. Very dearly.” Chanyeol peppers light kisses on porridge-stained cheeks. Kyungsoo reacts with a frothy giggle, and Chanyeol feels loved in return, even as Kyungsoo is kicking his heels into Chanyeol’s shins.

Jongdae walks into the kitchen and halts halfway when he spots Chanyeol, dread of being unwelcome apparent in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Jongdae,” Chanyeol apologizes; now that he’s calmed down, no longer blinded by anger and fear, he knows he owes his bandmate an apology. “It wasn't your fault. Shouldn’t have done that you.”

Jongdae pulls the chair opposite to Chanyeol’s and sits down. Jongdae has forgiven him if Chanyeol ever knows Jongdae. “I’m sorry, too. I should have known better,” Jongdae reassures.

Kyungsoo greets Jongdae with an excited babble of seeing a familiar face.

Chanyeol doesn’t know what comes over him, only knows he’s feeling way too emotional at the moment. “It’s just . . . It could have gone really bad? Like the mug could have probably crushed the bones of his tiny little feet. Even when he was an adult he was so small, and now he’s a baby and he’s just so, so tiny, so fragile, I just—” Chanyeol tilts his head back sharply, trying to contain the tears brimming and threatening to fall. “Oh lord, this is embarrassing.”

Jongdae laughs softly, understandingly, and Chanyeol loves him.

“I will never forgive myself if anything happens to him,” Chanyeol continues when he’s wiped off the tears with his sleeve. “I brought him to this, I gotta him bring him back in one piece.”

Kyungsoo babbles, looking back and forth between Chanyeol and Jongdae, as if he’s part of the conversation. Then, with dexterity of a toddler, he slaps his miniature palms against Chanyeol’s cheeks in what Chanyeol concludes an attempt to dry his eyes, and Chanyeol loves him. He tells as much to the little creature despite knowing it will go disregarded.

“He knows,” Jongdae states, observing them with kind eyes, all too knowingly for Chanyeol’s taste. “Even now that he’s a toddler, he knows.”

Chanyeol pretends as though the implication escapes him.

 

 

Ironically, as the members and the manager are growing restless, Kyungsoo the toddler is finally embracing his newly adapted lifestyle that consists of sleeping, eating, pooping, peeing, and playing. A variety of toys can be seen scattered around the living room, mostly thanks to Jongin and Baekhyun, who no longer seems all that eager for Kyungsoo to return to his normal self. It’s obvious how everyone is taken with little Kyungsoo. It’s also obvious how little Kyungsoo is taken with Chanyeol. However, as it goes, it’s a day before Beijing takeoff and everyone (except for Kyungsoo) is getting more fidgety by the hour.

“If he’s still . . . like this tomorrow, we’ll have to tell the company,” Junmyeon decides.

Everyone agrees. Chanyeol doesn’t feel like arguing. Somehow, with groundless faith of some sort that has nothing to do with religion and everything to do with the heavens, he has a hunch everything is going to be alright.

It feels different going to sleep with Kyungsoo that night. He insists on having Chanyeol in his bed, little fingers pulling at, holding on to Chanyeol’s as he is being fed formula from the bottle. Kyungsoo looks up at him and gurgles through his milk, innocent round eyes twinkling with unadulterated mirth, and Chanyeol loves him. Loves Kyungsoo the little cherub. Loves Kyungsoo the quiet, subdued young adult.

Not that it stops him from feeling like Kyungsoo is slipping through his fingers even as he is in Chanyeol’s arms.

 

 

A few hours later in the dead of night, as uneventful as it was when he turned into a toddler, Kyungsoo comes back to his 22-year-old self.

 

 

The dawn is breaking, and Chanyeol wakes up to a headful of hair in his face. He inhales deeply on instinct, finding comfort in the powdery scent of baby shampoo, a habit he’s acquired since toddler Kyungsoo came into his life.

Speaking of, the hair seems way too thick to belong to a toddler.

_No way._

“Kyungsoo . . . ?” Chanyeol asks, tentative. Kyungsoo hums and scoots closer in response, which, okay, is totally a thing that Chanyeol and little Kyungsoo did all the time, but adult Kyungsoo has never even let Chanyeol sleep together in his bed let alone in this proximity.

“Kyungsoo.”

And Kyungsoo finally looks up at Chanyeol, his head tilting backwards to accommodate the little space between his chin and Chanyeol’s chest. Chanyeol wills his beating heart to be still.

“What?” Kyungsoo asks, voice rough from lack of use, heavy with sleep.

“You’re back,” Chanyeol marvels, runs his fingers through dark tousled hair in reverence. Kyungsoo throws a lazy smile at him before nuzzling back into the crook of Chanyeol’s neck. Chanyeol is starting to think the realization that he’s no longer a toddler hasn’t quite dawned on Kyungsoo.

“You’re also naked,” Chanyeol tries.

Kyungsoo freezes for a second before he scrambles to sit upright, holding the covers close to his person. He quickly peeks a look. Groaning in embarrassment, he pulls the covers over his head to hide himself.

Chanyeol laughs so hard he thinks he has pulled a muscle. “I’ve changed your diapers, Kyungsoo. Come on.” Chanyeol tries to yank the duvet away from Kyungsoo’s face, but the attempt is futile, met with a death threat, something along the line of _I owe you but I will not hesitate to end you_.

Chanyeol only laughs harder, his guffaw waking up Jongin instead, which, in consequences, alerts the whole house. Kyungsoo suffers a little more under the probe, but the relief is palpable and everyone pretends like Kyungsoo isn’t bare-assed under the covers.

“Do you remember everything?” Chanyeol hears someone ask, a question he’s been dying to know the answer to himself.

“Not really.” Kyungsoo turns to look at Chanyeol, flashes a private little smile that feels sorely intimate in the crowd of almost a dozen other people, and then turns back to everyone. “Just enough,” he adds, like an afterthought.

“Did you think Chanyeol was your dad?”

Kyungsoo turns red at the question. “No!”

“But you do remember clinging to him like he was one?”

“It’s . . . instinct, I guess. My toddler self decided he was my safe place, I had no place to say no.”

Chanyeol preens at the answer. He is already missing the sight and presence of toddler Kyungsoo, but everyone is groaning in unison at Kyungsoo’s cryptic responses and Kyungsoo is bursting out laughing in amusement and Chanyeol thinks, _this is perfect_.

 

 

Later, much later, as Chanyeol often does when he misses the toddler version of Kyungsoo, he will swipe through the gallery of his phone to reminisce (which also serves as a reminder that those few precious days aren’t a figment of his imagination), and Kyungsoo will sit next to him to ask, “Am I?”

Chanyeol will give him a confused look, and then question, “Are you what?”

Kyungsoo’s cheeks will be tinted pink, plush bottom lip bit nervously. “Loved?”

And Chanyeol will laugh the heartiest laugh from the belly, recalling back what then seems to be a soliloquy, and he will answer, with faux solemnity but genuine sincerity, as he gazes into Kyungsoo’s eyes that yes, he is. _Very dearly._

Chanyeol will then realize that Kyungsoo remembers just enough alright.

Kyungsoo will beam, with perfect heart-shaped lips and crescent eyes, uninhibited in his display of delight and relief, and grab Chanyeol’s hand. “You, too, are loved. Very dearly,” he will whisper, affectionate and quiet and _shy_ , and Chanyeol will kiss him breathless in return.

 

 

As it is, for now, Beijing awaits.


End file.
